Held Hostage
by Segunda Katigbak
Summary: L/OC. A bank robbery turned hostage drama. L was called for help and our officer in charge ain’t willing to work under anyone. “I’ve never been insulted in my entire life! A computer screen as a boss? Are you kidding me?”


**Held Hostage**

**Characters:** L, OC

**Genre:** Slight Romance, Crime

**Rated: **T for cursing, I guess. And guns, robbery, whatever.

**Summary:** A bank robbery turned hostage drama. L was called for help and our officer in charge ain't willing to work under anyone. "I've never been insulted in my entire life! A computer screen as a boss? Are you kidding me?"

**Disclaimer:** Plot based on the short-series, 'The Kill Point'. Watch it. It's cool! Characters not familiar to you are mine. L and Watari aren't. Otherwise, I would have been popular and not a mere fan fiction writer. Unbeta'ed.

**Prologue**

Sirens blared loudly in the distance and five Rovers dashed their way across the busy street, rushing across the Wayward Bank. Five minutes later, the police enforcements were surrounding the establishment, setting up cameras, and satellite devices. The policemen in charge lined and positioned themselves behind their armor, gun at the ready.

A speakerphone boomed, yelling, "Better surrender yourself, Lecktard and get this over with."

Inside the dimly-lit lounge of the bank, they heard. But they ain't giving themselves up. They've reached this far and there's no way they're going to hand themselves over to the reinforcements.

The hostages quivered at the sight of the fire arms, their barrels pointing straight through their heads. Any wrong move and they're done for. They've visited the bank, thinking it was safe enough to entrust their investments on it but what they did not expect was this kind of situation. They did not expect to be held hostage like this by some crack-pot fools who wouldn't give a damn just for the sake of money.

"Fuck Bou," one lean blonde holding a thirteen-millimeter cursed as he stomped his shoe over a large pot of plant which nearly toppled with the force. He was pissed. "This isn't part of the plan! We're not freaking hostage-takers!"

The dark-haired man, Bou Lecktard, Hispanic with his slightly tanned tone and rough accent, approximately in his mid-thirties, winced in pain as his gun-wound on his right shoulder throbbed nastily once again. "I've got everything in control, Hosei. So, just shut up for a while."

Lecktard lead the whole group. Earlier, after they had raided the vaults of the bank clean, they were able to get away with the car. But as soon as they started the engine, the cops came and they unofficially made a shoot out. Their engine rumbled in argument and they went back to the foyer and declared the whole bank captive. They had no other choice.

"In control?" Hosei shouted in disbelief. "You've got a horrible injury; we're holding twelve people hostage and the cops got the whole building surrounded and everything's under control? Man, you've got to be kidding me!"

He rolled his eyes and whirled the office chair around to face the terrified victims.

---

"I'm cutting you off of this case, Steinad." The large voice from the other line sounded furious and frustrated at the same time. They've been there for forty-five minutes and there had been no progress at all. To add to that, two of the policemen were shot on the previous attempt to catch the criminals.

"You can't do that Chief," the woman from the other line replied calmly as she reached for the box of donuts. "We're working on the negotiations already."

They've settled around Lorenzo's, a fast food right in front of the bank. All their equipments were set up inside and they'd closed the whole road. Nevertheless, a huge crowd gathered around the police yellow line, curious of what kind of drama was happening inside.

"This is a critical case. We've got twelve people at stake, for Christ's sake!"

"I know that. That's why we're doing our best to have them out alive. We're not risking everything just for the sake of it."

"Sein--" Pissed, she threw the earphone down and ended the call.

The chestnut-haired woman dropped the half-eaten donut back on the box and pushed the mobile phone out of her sight. She knew what she was doing and nobody needed to remind her that twelve lives are in danger here. She's got everything in control and lucky, for the past forty-five minutes, the hostage-takers weren't tossing dead bodies out of the bank gates anytime they seemed like it.

A Yale graduate at the age of nineteen, Patricia Steinad entered the military force without anyone telling her to. Her parents had greatly disapproved of her decision, saying that a girl mustn't do boy's stuff because it's dangerous, but she proved them wrong. At the fresh age of twenty-four, she was already a member of the FBI, handling different cases ranging from theft to homicides.

"Bob," she motioned the officer in charge of questioning the witnesses. The brunette turned to look and found a smiling Patty Steinad. He shook his head in disbelief and marched his way up to the counter where she was sitting leisurely, eating donuts while everything is in chaos. Just great.

"What is it?" he asked, his tone bored, as he dropped his notepad on the granite counter-top.

"Chief called and ticked me off. Are the files I asked you to get for me ready?"

Bob restrained from rolling his eyes and shouted for a nearby officer and yelled his instructions. Patty shrugged and wondered what the hell is wrong with this guy and raised her teacup up to her lips. A few moments later, the officer handed them a large manila folder.

Setting her cup back to the saucer, Patricia opened the folder and skimmed over the files of the bastards inside that bank. A smile then, came plastered across her lips.

"We're dealing with damn soldiers," she told Bob out of the blue, who seemed to be out of breath as he leaned over to have a peek at the file she was holding.

They're dealing with damn soldiers, skilled in combat and battle. Well, this is going to be tough.

---

Several miles away from the Wayward Bank, a computer beeped silently and an incoming video call was on the line. A pale hand reached for the mouse and clicked the button.

"Watari," he acknowledged the old man from the other line as he brought his thumb up to his lips.

"The FBI needs your assistance," the old man replied calmly.

"What is it about?"

"A bank robbery turned hostage crisis. The policemen in charge are dealing with skilled soldiers. Twelve civilians are at stake."

"Send me the report then."

---

Back at Lorenzo's, everyone else froze and looked at the computer as a large Roman letter 'L' in Cloister Black flashed in the screen. Patricia turned to look from the file she was reading up to the blinking monitor.

"What is this about?" she asked curiously and when nobody answered, a husky voice sounded from the receiver.

"This is L."

---

**First Chapter Ends Here.**

**A/N:** YAY! I've finished the first chapter! Please do tell if you liked it or not. This is my first attempt on Death Note as a series; please be nice.

**OMAKE: Matt's Captivity**

Matt sat there on the countertop, taking a long drag from his cigarette as he pushed the buttons of his DS at fast speed. He was trapped on inside the bathroom with the door jammed, and the hostage-takers, unaware that what they're dealing with were actually thirteen people.

"Damn! I lost!" he cursed as he tossed the gadget on the countertop, and looked at himself on the mirror.

"Well, I'm on a damn hostage drama Mello," he muttered under his breath, speaking to his reflection on the mirror. "Thank you very much."

**mylife'sboat: **Well, I just wanted Matt to be on the scene. (sniggers)


End file.
